


The Interim

by ganymedejam



Series: Touch-starved Idiots [6]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, One Shot, oblivious Din is the best and worst Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganymedejam/pseuds/ganymedejam
Summary: Post-Chapter 14/Pre-Chapter 15.You arrive at Nevarro after the events on Tython to seek out Cara Dune's help with finding Mayfeld. Greef Karga is a touch too unintentionally insightful, which makes Din have second thoughts about involving you in what's next. And you are having none of that nonsense, and you blindside him again.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader
Series: Touch-starved Idiots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037154
Comments: 3
Kudos: 140





	The Interim

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this was supposed to be. I just wanted them to be emotional again for NO REASON!!! I swear to god this man is so dumb that someone has to tattoo "I love you, Din Djarin" on their forehead to get him to notice.

You’re busy cleaning up in the Slave I’s refresher when Din knocks on the door. “Come up to the cockpit when you’re ready. We need to go over what’s next.”

When you finish up and make your way up to the cockpit, the Mandalorian, Boba, and Fennec were already talking about part of the plan. You lean back against the wall and listen in. Din turns to you to go over what was already discussed.

“We’re going back to Nevarro to talk to Cara Dune to find someone for me who can help track down Gideon.”

“Who?”

“Migs Mayfeld. Ex-Imperial sharpshooter.”

“You don’t know where he is?”

“I know that he’s a prisoner of the New Republic.”

“Uh, what now?”

“Long story. We find Mayfeld. He helps us get to Gideon.”

Fennec chimes in with a smirk, “I’m sure he’ll be more than delighted to  _ help _ you out, Mando.”

“He won’t have a choice.” Din quips back, his tone tinged with malice.

\---

  
  


You hung back and waited for Din at the bottom of the ladder of cockpit when the impromptu meeting was finished. When he finished descending the ladder you led him over to a secluded corner of the ship to talk to him. He noticed you chewing at the corner of your lip as you looked up at him--a bad tell of yours that you do when you’re upset. His helmet tilts curiously at you, “Something wrong?”

“Do you regret taking off your helmet from earlier?” The anxiety swirls in your gut; you wanted to be happy to have shared that moment with him but after the fact it just felt wrong.

“I don’t.”

“I do. What about the Creed? You just violated it.”

“Did you see me? Did you see my face?”

“No.”

“Then nothing was violated.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, and Din stays silent as well, observing your body language. You’re visibly upset; you keep shifting from side-to-side and you have this sad look in your eyes.

“I--I feel terrible for letting you do that, and even worse that I  _ touched your face _ .”

“It was my choice.”

You opened your mouth to say something but immediately stopped when he touched your shoulder. “I shut the lights off. You didn’t see anything. Leave it at that.” he told you in a matter-of-fact tone.

You’re still not satisfied; you still feel perverse in a way. “I know what it means to you, Din.”

He tilts his helmet at you again, regarding you as he tries to think of the right thing to say. You hear him exhale a soft sigh through his voice modulator. Din drops his hand from your shoulder to reach out and take one of your hands in his.

“Maybe it’s good that you feel bad?”

“What?” you blurt out, shooting him a bewildered expression.

“ _ Fuck.” _ he stammers. “Not what I meant. I mean--you feeling bad about it because you know how important the Creed is.” Din clears his throat to buy him a second to put his thoughts into the right words, then sighs in frustration as he forces the inarticulate words out. “Means you’re a good person. Worth bending the rules like that for.”

Your mouth curves into a demure smile, “You think so?” He squeezes your hand gently, nodding slightly. “Yeah.”

He let go of your hand and stood there, staring down at you--probably for a little too long. You noticed that he started to subtly fidget and you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly. He mumbled that it was nothing and walked away down the corridor.

\---

You arrive on Nevarro and the moment you’re in town, Greef Karga is waiting for you. He greets Mando with a strong clap on his back; he laughs when Din grunts at the friendly gesture. Karga turns to you and holds you by your shoulders, which is as close to hugging as Karga will really ever get. “Nice to see you again. Thought you would have hopped off the Razor Crest as soon as you could.”

“No,” you reply sheepishly. “I, uh--we work surprisingly well together, I think.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” He shoots you a quizzical look but doesn’t say anything further. Karga releases you then trains his attention back to the Mandalorian.

“Got your message. Ill news..” Karga trails off, looking at Din sternly. “Do you know what you’re getting into Mando?”

“I’m getting the kid back no matter what.”

Karga waves his hands at Din, “I know. I know. That baby saved both of our lives, but getting him back from  _ Moff Gideon _ ? Despite your reputation--and honestly, how you continue to surprise me with your fortitude--that’s a death wish, even for  _ you _ .”

If looks could kill, Greef Karga would probably be reduced to a pile of ash with the way Din had his visor trained on him.

“I’m being practical, Mando.” He shifts his gaze between Din and you. “Jumping in and risking so much for such slim odds? There’s so much to be lost here.” Karga is giving you a knowing look, and Din knows that it’s some kind of jab at something that he won’t say aloud.

Din replies sternly, “My mind’s made up.”

Karga immediately masks his grim expression with a toothy smile, and slides his arm across the Mandalorian’s shoulders as a gesture of solidarity and begins leading him in the direction to Cara Dune’s office. He looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a loose wave, “Just stealing him for a bit.” You nod and hang back, despite wishing you could join them, but you have to meet up with your former colleagues to see about securing some repairs and parts for the Slave I.

You turn away and you hear the faint, mostly one-sided conversation Karga is having with Din. “So what is it about you and constantly collecting an odd rabble of friends? You’re not exactly the warm and welcoming type.” Din interrupts him with an annoyed grunt, and Karga laughs heartily. “You’ve even stolen one of my  _ best _ mechanics out from under my nose! My crew’s reputation took a slight dip from that, y’know!”

You can’t help but chuckle at what you just overheard, and you make your way over to the workshop. Karga never compliments anything without a good reason, and you’re glad to know that you’re still in good graces despite leaving.

\--

Darkness has fallen when Din returns to the Slave I with Karga. You, Boba, and Fennec had just finished up doing some maintenance on the outer hull, the last of a slew of repairs that left you both dirty and exhausted. 

Karga calls out to you while you’re still strapped to the side of the ship and going over the seam of some of the hull’s plating one more time with your torch. “Dinner’s on me. Hurry up and finish! I’m starved!”

All of you make your way back to the cantina where a full spread of food is already waiting. Fennec and Boba prepare their plates and sit off to the side, preferring to speak little and simply observe while eating. Karga and Cara sit on one side of the booth while you and Din sit on the other. Of course, Din doesn’t touch anything while the other two are busy digging in and discussing the next part of the plan in between bites of food. Karga notices you not eating and pushes one of the dishes towards you. “You’ve been working hard all day! Eat!”

You’re honestly starving for a good meal. The events on Tython, and the private moment with Din afterward, left you too drained to really have an appetite. You resorted to nibbling on portions the whole way back to Nevarro, and then became too focused on the Slave I’s repairs that you didn’t bother to eat most of the day.

You eye the piles of food hungrily but you lie to Karga and decline the meal. “Not hungry right now. Think I’m too stressed out, heh.”

Din turns to you and tells you plainly, “You should eat something.”

“I’m really okay. I’ll eat  _ later _ .” you reply, gently kicking at his boot beneath the table to signal what you’re trying to say. You resort to sipping on the strange milky green drink the barkeep just set down for you to stave off the hunger for now.

Karga grins at you. “You really must be stressed, huh? You’re usually more than happy to pile your plate up at my expense. Don’t blame you, considering what’s happened.” You can’t tell if Karga senses that something is off but he doesn’t give any indication that he wants to stick his nose in your business. He carries on by discussing what’s been happening on Nevarro and the interesting work Cara has been doing to keep it secure.

\---

When everyone is ready to turn in to leave the cantina, you hang back and pack up some of the food in square metal containers to save for you and Din.

You both retreat to the passenger hold again, with permission from Boba to seal yourselves in. Naturally, that earned you both a questioning look from him but he says nothing. 

“Great. Now he thinks we’re doing something weird on his ship.” you whisper to Din as Boba walks away.

A chuckle crackles in his helmet’s vocoder. “We  _ are _ .”

“Shut up.” you hiss at him, which earns you a laugh from him.

Din lowers the metal blast shields on the window as he did before, and locks the door. You both slip into your newly established routine and sit crossed legged on the floor, back to back. He takes off his helmet and sets it down beside him then opens up the metal container of food in his lap and immediately digs in. You do the same and practically shovel the food in your mouth.

“I’m so damn hungry,” you tell him between bites. “They talk too much! Maker, I was  _ dying _ !”

Din laughs and tells you with his mouth full, “Told you to eat.”

“Wanted to eat with you.” You take a pause, sighing softly and leaning your back against his. “M’tired..”

“Sleep after this. You need to.”

You hum in agreement, then busy yourself with picking out most of the fried root vegetables and some cubes of meat from your plate to set them on the container’s lid. You slide the lid over to him, “For you. I know you like these.”

He looks down at what you gave him, then slides it back. “No. You need the protein.”

You scoff at him and shove the lid back to him again, the metal making a harsh scrape against the floor. You hear him sigh softly and then the scrape of metal on metal as he spears the morsels with his fork. The two of you finish your meals in silence, though not for the lack of wanting conversation; the busywork of eating makes your minds stray to the same thing: Grogu.

Din sets his tray down off to the side, and you hear him sigh again. “Would you want to stay here?” You’re so surprised by his question that you flinch and almost whip around to look at him, but you catch yourself in the movement. “What? Why would you ask me that?”

You feel Din square his shoulders behind you. “I want you to know that you have a choice. Because when we get to Mayfeld there’s no opportunity to change your mind.”

“Where is this coming from?” you ask softly, unable to hide your distress in your tone. “Do you not want me to come with you?”

“Of--of course I do! You’re one hell of a pilot and a great shot. I’d need you there.”

“So what’s the problem then?”

Din pauses for an uncomfortably long time. He casts his gaze downward, his hands balled into fists in his lap as he tries to find the words.

“The ‘ _ needing _ you there’ part.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, Din?” You’re upset, but your voice carries a comforting concern about it that makes him feel worse.

“It’s selfish. Putting you in harm’s way.”

“Why is it any different than Cara or Boba or Fennec coming along?”

“It’s--I--fuck, I don’t  _ know _ !”

He practically flinches hearing your voice suddenly sounding hard as steel. “I’m not going anywhere. I can handle myself. You need to focus on getting Grogu back, no matter what.” Din curses inwardly; it’s like you read his mind in a way. You are so very much on the verge of tears but you swallow it all, and continue, “I want him back with you, Din. And I am going to do everything I can to help you.”

You hear him breathe out your name behind you, but you just keep going, the words spilling out of your mouth in a great torrent.

“I knew what Karga was trying to hint at earlier, but I made my choice and I don’t care how slim the chances are. Not if it means it can get us even an inch closer to getting him back. He’s worth it.  _ You’re _ worth it, Din.”

He’s turned suddenly cynical--a terrible impulse reaction to hearing your words. It’s been a long damn time since anyone has said anything about his worth separate from his identity as a bounty hunter. “How do you know what I’m worth.” Din says to you gravely. There's something eating at him inside that makes him want to run: the fear of being open and raw and vulnerable. He hates the feeling because it means you could either cradle him gently in your hands or crush him to pieces in your grip. _Nobody_ gets this close enough to do that to him.

“ _ Din! _ ” you hiss his name as if you were a parent scolding a child.

“Worth dying for. That’s what you said after what happened on Tython.”

You sigh at him in frustration, and quip back. “Who’s the one who said  _ that same day _ that they’d have to kill you to keep you from me and the kid?”

Din is quiet behind you, and you elbow him in his side. “Why are we arguing about ‘worth’? Why are we doing this, huh?”

“I don’t know.” he replies quietly, like he really is lost.

You feel a cocktail of conflicting emotions storming in your chest: bewilderment, sadness, anxiousness, stress, some anger, but all rooted in love.

“You’re acting like it's taboo to know you like this, y'know?” You feel tears stinging gently at your eyes. “I don’t know everything about you and I will never know  _ everything _ , but I know enough to be sure about you.”

“Sure?”

“Sure that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and that I don’t think you do either. We’re both idiots doing this dance that we don’t know the moves to.”

“What--”

“I don’t know how to deal with how I love you.” you blurt out.

Din whips around and looks at you up and down with utter  _ shock _ , and his face is beet red to the point that the tips of his ears are burning. You don’t see this of course; you felt him move behind you and as much as you wanted to meet his gaze, you sat as still as stone.

“ _ What? _ ” He reaches up and clasps your shoulder, his gloved fingers digging harshly into it as he leans in close enough to feel his heavy breaths on your ear. “ _ What did you just say?” _ His heart is beating a mile a minute; he does  _ not _ believe whatever the hell is happening.

You laugh at his reaction, trying to use it to mask your sudden mortification for confession. “I just--I just  _ told _ you what I wanted to tell you back on Tython! What I _did_ tell you then without directly telling you that I love you!”

He makes a frustrated noise and takes a sharp breath, but that doesn’t stop him from stuttering as he curses to himself during his own bewilderment. “That’s---wha--- _ Dank farrik _ , what the  _ hell!” _

Oh, now this is so awkwardly amusing. “ _ Maker _ , you’re bad at this! Glad to know I’m not the only one.” you sigh in relief and you can’t help but take a jab at him. You instantly blush when you suddenly feel his chin rest against your shoulder. He gently presses his cheek to the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around you from behind, which makes you shiver from a mixture of anxiousness and excitement. Din breathes out a distressed groan as he admits “I’m bad at this.” His right arm shifts to lazily cover one of your hands with his. “Was trying to give you an out and let you go, and you made things worse.”

You smile softly at him and tease him yet again, “This is your idea of worse?” He nods, then lowers his head to press his forehead to your shoulder. “Yep.”

“I like this kind of worse.”

He chuckles, his mouth curling into a slight grin. “I swear, you’re wrecking me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to excuse Din being suddenly touchy-feely, especially at the end of the chapter, because he's emotionally vulnerable right now about losing Grogu and worrying about Reader :') But hey! Love confession! .... but he fucking doesn't say it back because he's a dumbass. Or rather, I am for writing him that way? Whatever. He'll say it soon enough. Maybe they'll finally smooch lmao


End file.
